Gregor the Gallant
by redcandle
Summary: Gregor awakens in Qyburn's dungeon suffering from Hollywood!amnesia. Crack!fic.


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended.

He woke up in a dimly-lit room with walls of stone. He was alone. Where was he? Who was he? He considered leaving the bed but he was afraid to. He wanted his mommy.

A kindly looking old man entered the room and smiled when he saw him. "Ah. Ser Gregor, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Gregor must be his name. "I'm fine," he answered. "Who are you?"

"My name's Qyburn. I'm a maester."

He might not remember who he was, but he remembered what a maester did. "What happened to me?"

The maester looked surprised, then pleased. On second thought, Gregor didn't find him so kindly looking after all. "Oh, you had a bit of a mishap. I tended to you and you should be all better now."

"Well, thanks," Gregor said. He looked about. "Where are my clothes?"

"I'm afraid they were ruined but I've ordered you new clothes...and a new suit of armor."

Armor? Right, the maester had called him _Ser_ Gregor. He had to be a knight. He was probably quite gallant. Gregor rose from the bed and, standing, he suddenly realized that either he was very, very big or Qyburn was very, very small.

He dressed in the simple tunic and breeches the maester gave him, and then donned the armor. It was heavy but he found he could bear the weight. "I guess I'll be going," he said. He took a couple of steps toward the door, then paused. "Could you please tell me where I am?"

"Of course, but why don't you sit down. You must be hungry."

Gregor sat in a chair that was uncomfortably small, trying to be polite. However he recoiled when he saw what Qyburn set before him. A plate of brains! "Ewww."

Qyburn frowned slightly then gave an unconvincing laugh. "Just a jest. Forgive an old man his sense of humor."

His tummy rumbled. He was hungry now that Qyburn had mentioned it. "Don't you have any real food?"

Qyburn gave him a loaf of bread and sat down across the table. "You're in King's Landing, in the Red Keep."

"Am I a knight of the Kingsguard?" He knew he must be very heroic.

"No."

"Oh." He pinched small pieces off the bread, crestfallen.

"But you are the Queen's champion," Qyburn added.

Gregor brightened. "I am?"

Qyburn nodded. "You are. And she needs you now. Queen Cersei has been imprisoned by the High Septon, who intends to put her on trial."

He was certain Queen Cersei was noble and gracious and innocent of whatever crimes she'd been accused of. "Oh, no! We must save her."

"We will," Qyburn assured him. "The Small Council is waiting for the queen's uncle to arrive and sort out the situation. They're cowardly and not loyal like we are."

"When is the trial?" The cause was just and he was surely a great knight so he knew he would defeat the High Septon's champion and prove Queen Cersei's innocence.

"I'm afraid we can't wait for a trial. The High Septon will only permit the Kingsguard to champion the queen and she doesn't trust her life to any of them."

"But they're the greatest knights in the realm, everyone knows that."

Qyburn looked bemused. "Unfortunately the Kingsguard isn't what it used to be."

"What will we do?" Gregor was distraught, imagining the poor beautiful queen in some dark dungeon. He must love her, chastely and from afar, the way all great knights loved queens and princesses.

"I was thinking you'd storm the sept and retrieve the queen."

"By myself?"

"You're a mighty warrior, Ser Gregor. Few can stand against you and even fewer will try now."

Wow. He must really be famous. He wondered if there were any songs about him. "When?"

"Why, as soon as you finish eating."

Gregor let the bread fall on the table. He couldn't sit here eating while dear Cersei was languishing in a dungeon. "Let's go." He was out the door before he remembered that he didn't remember anything and needed Qyburn to guide him.

The old maester wrapped himself in a cloak and hurried beside him. Gregor wanted to run to rescue the queen but he had to walk slowly so Qyburn could keep up. His armor was so plain. There wasn't even a sigil on his shield. "What House am I from? What is my sigil?"

"You're a Clegane. You are sworn to House Lannister, of which Queen Cersei is the head. Your sigil is three black dogs on a yellow field." He seemed to guess the cause of Gregor's displeasure. "There wasn't time to get your new shield painted and the sewing women aren't done with your new surcoat."

Of course they couldn't leave Queen Cersei to suffer while they waited for such vanities. Gregor paused and squinted when they finally exited the building and stepped into bright sunshine. His eyes burned as though they hadn't seen sunlight in a long time. He wondered how long he'd been sick. Too long. Long enough for misfortune to befall his beloved Cersei.

When his eyes had adjusted to the light and he could see, he received a shock. Everyone in the castle yard was so small! He guessed Qyburn wasn't a midget after all; he, Gregor, was a giant. "I'm huge," he exclaimed.

"You're said to be the largest man in the realm."

"Am I a giant?" He was worried; giants were bad, weren't they?

"Well, no, not in that sense. Those kinds of giants don't exist anymore. You're human."

"Oh." Gregor was relieved. "Then how come I'm so big?"

"I don't know. I suppose you just got lucky. Your brother's bigger than most men, but even he's much smaller than you."

Learning he had a brother distracted Gregor from worrying that he was a freak. "Where's my brother? What's his name? Which one of us is older?"

"You are the elder. Your brother's name is Sandor, though most people call him the Hound."

"Where is he?"

"It's best we talk about that later. Let's focus on the task at hand."

Gregor hoped nothing bad had happened to his little brother, but he let the subject rest. There was something else to worry about at the moment. People were running away as soon as they saw him. "What's wrong with them?" he asked Qyburn.

"Oh, they're just ignorant fools. They refused to believe I cured you with a maester's skills. They've been spreading rumors of sorcery and necromancy."

They were just surprised to see him then. For a moment Gregor had been afraid that people didn't like him. They'd see he was still the same good Ser Gregor when he saved the queen.

He knew when they'd reached the site of Queen Cersei's imprisonment. There was a large group of armed peasants standing guard in front of a grand sept, and another group demanding the release of their queen. Gregor didn't understand why they chanted "Margaery" though. It must be a nickname. Though he couldn't see how you'd get Margaery from Cersei.

They began to shriek when they saw him and the armed ones clutched their weapons. "Monster!" one man shouted and a woman threw dung at him.

Gregor didn't need Qyburn's urging to know what he had to do. He drew his sword, which was nearly as tall as a normal person. "Release Queen Cersei or I, Ser Gregor, shall be forced to slay you."

The crowd fell silent, confusion written on every face. Then their fear and anger returned and they resumed shouting. Gregor said a silent prayer, asking the gods' forgiveness for what he had to do, and then he began to cut through the crowd. When they had all fallen or fled, he found the door barred shut. He hit it and it broke under the force of his blows. There were more guards inside, better trained than the ones outside, but his armor protected him and he defeated them all.

He made his way through the sept, searching for Queen Cersei, killing all who tried to stop him. At last he found the queen in her dark and dank dungeon cell. He smashed the door open. Cersei screamed, startled. Gregor knelt before her and bowed his head. "I've come to rescue you, Your Grace." He raised his head and looked at her. "Your beauty is as radiant as ever."

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him like she'd never seen him before.

Qyburn, who'd followed at a safe distance, moved quickly into the cell. "Come, Your Grace. We must go before more sparrows come."

"You've addled his brains," she said.

"There were some unexpected complications, but is he not all I promised you?"

Queen Cersei strode out of the cell without replying. Qyburn ran behind her and Gregor followed them. He stopped when he realized the adjacent cell was also occupied. He peered inside and saw a beautiful young woman. He demolished the door to free her, but she cowered in the far corner of the room.

"What are you doing?" Cersei demanded.

"There's a girl in here."

Cersei smiled a smile Gregor would have called evil if he hadn't known better. "By all means, have her."

"I think he wants to isave/i her, Your Grace," Qyburn whispered.

Cersei's smile faded. "Leave the bitch, Gregor."

Gregor hesitated.

"She's a very wicked girl, ser," Qyburn called to him. "She's the one responsible for Queen Cersei's imprisonment."

Well, in that case she deserved it. Gregor left her behind and hurried to protect the queen from the men who'd come to reinforce the fallen sept guards. There were an awful lot of people who wanted to harm them. They had to run all the way back to the Red Keep, chased by a mob armed with torches and pitchforks. Poor Cersei didn't even have shoes to protect her noble feet from the cruel cobblestones so Gregor did what any true knight would do and carried her in his arms.

The guards at the castle seemed afraid too. Queen Cersei had to shout and threaten them with terrible things before they opened the gate for them. Gregor was tired. He wanted some water to drink and a place to rest. But he had a duty to the queen. He followed her as she marched into Maegor's Holdfast and up the stairs to the royal apartments.

The old men gathered there seemed shocked to see Cersei. She ignored them and hugged the chubby little blond boy who'd dropped the royal seal to run to her.

"He's alive," said one of the men, staring at Gregor. "How?"

"You deceived the Dornish. It will mean trouble," the other man lectured the queen.

She glared at him. "Silence, old fool. You'll regret plotting treason with Ser Kevan instead of rescuing me. You'll spend the rest of your life in a black cell."

"Mother, make Ser Gregor go away. He scares me."

Gregor was crushed. He'd hoped the young king would let him play with the three adorable kittens curled on the bed.

"Don't be silly, Tommen. Gregor is here to keep us safe."

"I want Ser Loras."

"Tommen," Cersei said warningly. To Gregor, she said, "Take these traitors to the dungeon."

Gregor obeyed his queen, though he had to ask his prisoners for directions several times. He was making his way back to Cersei after depositing the prisoners with the gaoler when he was distracted by the smell of roasting meat. He knew he had to get back to protecting the queen but he wouldn't be able to guard her his best if he didn't get some food. He followed his nose to the kitchen. "May I please have something to eat?" he asked.

The kitchen staff all huddled in a mass, just staring at him. Finally one girl brought him a bowl of stew and a loaf of bread.

"Thank you," he said. He hadn't seen Qyburn since they'd returned to the castle so they hadn't gotten a chance to talk about his brother. He thought perhaps one of these folks might know something about Sandor.

But when he asked, they exchanged nervous looks. The same girl who'd fed him answered at last. "The Hound's turned outlaw. He burned the town of Saltpans and killed everyone in it."

Gregor was horrified to hear that his brother had done such evil things. How could he be brothers with a monster like that? He quickly finished his meal and returned to the queen's chambers. She didn't have any new orders for him, just told him to stand guard. So Gregor stood guard, and tried to think of how he could help his little brother repent his evil ways and become a true knight like him.


End file.
